


I Don't Wanna Talk

by TeenCaterpillar



Series: Harringrove Snippets [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Billy is a reluctant gay mentor, Coming Out, El knows everything, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, will is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 00:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenCaterpillar/pseuds/TeenCaterpillar
Summary: “You should talk to him.” Billy isn’t proud of how he jumps, startled.  He whips his head around to look at El.  Her eyes bored into him and he knocked some ash off the side of the porch.  As much as he wanted to deflect, it would be useless against El.“I don’t think so,” he replied, taking another drag.  “He may have forgiven me for beating the shit out of him, and we may be kind of friends, but that’s a line I’m just not gonna fucking cross.” He didn’t need to tell her why.  She smiled a little and tilted her head.“Not Steve.  Will.” Billy blinked.  “Though you should talk to Steve, too.”





	I Don't Wanna Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This was worming around in my head and I needed to get it out. I want to write more, because I love protective Dustin, and need some of that in my life, but we'll start here because I need to stop starting fics without finishing others. So this is, at the moment, a stand alone one shot with some Billy feels.
> 
> Also, I haven't finished season 2, and haven't seen season 3. I know what happens, so like, there's that, but this takes place before Mind Flayer 2.0 and diverges from there.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t completely sure when his life had been overrun by a bunch of nerdy teens, but it probably started around the time he had apologized to Harrington for beating the absolute shit out of him. Not immediately, of course. It had been a shitty apology, and at the time he still kinda wanted to beat his face in, it was too pretty. But that had definitely been the beginning of the downward spiral into somehow becoming a fucking babysitter.

Things were… ok. His dad still _sucked_. Billy himself still got angry, really fucking angry, and picked fights, but less than he had before. Weird monsters kinda made other shit a little less pressing, yanno. He and Max had reached a truce of sorts, and though he wouldn’t admit it, she was kinda growing on him. Even her little nerd friends. Still, he felt weird as fuck sitting in the Byers’ kitchen, a bunch of teens arguing about some game or comic or fuck knows what in the other room. He sucked on a cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly through his nose, relishing in the burn.

His eyes flicked to the other room, away from a magazine he’d found lying on the ground outside the store. It was some gossip rag, and really fucking boring, but it was better than nothing. He watched his sister, step-sister, angrily shoving her finger into the curly haired kid’s face. His name was Desmond, or Derrick, or… Something with a D. He and Lucas still eyed Billy warily, like he was gonna flip on them at any moment, and he didn’t really blame them. He was an asshole, didn’t think he could wash that out of his personality if he tried, but he didn’t shove them around anymore. He’d apologized to Lucas too, not fully able to find the words to tell him that he’d done what he did because if his father knew Lucas liked Max… Well. He took another drag of the cigarette.

Curly Q was also crazy protective of Ste-- Harrington. Billy rubbed his temples. He was getting a fucking headache.

“You can’t be a _good orc_,” the curly haired kid said, tossing his hands in the air. “They’re always evil!”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, Dustin!” Max yelled back. Dustin. That’s right. Someday he’d fucking remember that kid’s name. Honestly, he mostly forgot it because it was hilarious to watch the kid’s face twist in annoyance when he called him the wrong name. He went back to ignoring their argument and watched the other kids.

Nancy’s kid brother was showing a comic to Hopper’s -- Daughter? Ward? -- whatever, El, gesturing animatedly while she watched him, a small smile on her face. She creeped him out a bit. Mostly because he knew she could see right through him and it made his hairs stand on end. He liked her, probably the best of Max’s friends, because she understood what he felt best out of all of them. The anger, the fear. He looked away, not wanting to go down that road, and his eyes landed on Jonathan’s kid brother.

Will was watching everyone else, seemingly just happy to have his friends around. The kid had _huge_ eyes and Billy noticed how they almost always ended up looking at Nancy’s brother. Billy took another drag of his cigarette. The kid looked so fucking sad anytime he looked at the Wheeler boy. Like he was looking at a video game he couldn’t buy, or someone he couldn’t -- Billy huffed to himself. He knew that look. Seen it on his own face too many times. The kid was soft, one of those kids who had been through hell and back and only been made kinder because of it. Billy kind of hated him for it, but not really. He just wished he could have done the same.

But this… This made sense. Will looked up, noticing Billy watching him, and flushed, looking back at his friends quickly. Billy went back to his magazine, but wasn’t able to focus. Poor kid. Falling for a straight best friend in _Hawkins, Indiana_ of all fucking places. He didn’t think the kid’s friends would give him shit for it, they didn’t seem the type, but he knew first fucking hand that that kind of thing didn’t matter. Someone, somewhere, _would_ give a shit. His father, for instance. Billy’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the magazine, exhaling smoke through his nose again. It was getting too fucking hot in here.

“I’m going out for fresh air,” he drawled, capturing the kids’ attention. “Don’t burn anything down while I’m on the porch.” Dustin made a face and Max rolled her eyes, but they mostly ignored him as he went out back. He plopped on the chair that had been put out and propped his feet up on the railing. He flicked his finished stub of a cigarette and pulled out another, lighting it. The burn in his lungs was fucking great.

Harrington was supposed to be here, watching the kids with him, but he’d had to go to the store for snacks after the kids had demolished what little Joyce had had. Billy was simultaneously grateful and annoyed Harrington had offered to go, not wanting to be stuck with the kids alone, but also not wanting to be alone with _Harrington_. Danger lay down that path, danger that ended with his dad’s fists on his face, and Billy had been so fucking good lately. Hadn’t looked too much, hadn’t touched, hadn’t done _anything_ except yearn from an acceptable distance. Which was bad enough. Billy rubbed a hand over his face, feeling his head throb. Fuck.

He stood up, flicking his finished cigarette off the porch and went back inside. The Star Trek marathon they had gathered together for had finally started and Max glowered at him when he made too much noise coming back in. He rolled his eyes and made a show of being extra quiet as he sat back down in the kitchen. God, was this fucking boring without Steve. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. _Harrington_, he reminded himself. Steve was too close. Harrington kept him at a distance. Billy’s eyes flickered over to the kids again, the feeling of being watched tickling the back of his neck. El was looking at him, thoughtful, then she made a pointed look at Will. Billy flushed when her knowing eyes looked back at him.

The sound of Steve stumbling in the door broke whatever silent conversation they were having, and Billy was so fucking grateful, he even helped Steve bring the snacks in.

“Did you buy the fucking store?” Billy grumbled, hauling in four bags of shitty snack foods, delicious shitty snack foods, not at all trying to be impressive. Harrington rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off. We have six fucking kids to feed, plus ourselves,” he said. Billy ignored him and turned on the oven to make the frozen pizzas. He could feel Dustin watching them. That kid was like a fucking watchdog, Jesus Christ. He acted like Steve’s shield. Billy licked his bottom lip, chiding himself for the mental slip up, but figured that it was becoming a losing battle. Steve came up next to him, leaning against the counter as he lit his cigarette, and Billy felt his hands itch to touch. To weave his fingers through that fucking hair, mouth at that pale neck, kiss each fucking mole. He gripped the counter tighter and didn’t need to look over to know El was watching him again. When he felt another pair of eyes, he did look. Will was looking at him. He looked, well, he looked like he just figured something out, and shit. Billy pushed away from the counter and stalked over to the table, sitting down in the chair roughly. Fucking kids were too aware for their own good.

\--

“You should talk to him.” Billy isn’t proud of how he jumps, startled. He whips his head around to look at El. Her eyes bored into him and he knocked some ash off the side of the porch. As much as he wanted to deflect, it would be useless against El.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, taking another drag. “He may have forgiven me for beating the shit out of him, and we may be kind of friends, but that’s a line I’m just not gonna fucking cross.” He didn’t need to tell her why. She smiled a little and tilted her head.

“Not Steve. Will.” Billy blinked. “Though you should talk to Steve, too.”

“Why,” he asked bluntly, ignoring the whole talk to Steve part. She shrugged.

“He feels alone too.” And damn, wow, thanks kid. Billy rubbed his eye with one hand.

“Yeah well, me talking to him won’t help. We _are_ alone.” Sometimes these kids were too fucking optimistic. El rolled her eyes.

“You should still talk to him.” And with that, she went back inside. Billy quelled the anger burning in his heart. It was misdirected, but fuck. He wasn’t about to be some-- some _queer_ mentor or some shit. He was an asshole and would probably just fucking embarrass the kid. Or worse, upset him. He thought of his mother, briefly, and then of Joyce. He knew she’d love her son unconditionally. Knew she’d protect him from anything, regardless of where it came from. That she would do anything in her power to make sure her kid knew he wasn’t, and never would be, alone. He thought of how he felt when someone else just _knew_ and didn’t care. Of how freeing it was, that he didn’t _have_ to do this alone. He groaned and pressed the meat of his palms to his eyes.

“Fuck.”

\--

“Hey.” Billy ignored the way Will jumped, shocked. He leaned against the railing next to him, lighting a cigarette. He needed to cut back, fuck.

It’d been a few days since El had come out to tell him to talk to the kid. He’d stewed, flip flopping between listening to her or listening to the angry little voice in his head. She won out, the angry voice definitely an extension of his father’s fucking influence, but then he had realized he didn’t really have a way to start the conversation. Jumping right in would probably scare the kid off. Plus, he was still working through his own shit, thank you very much, and balked a little about the idea of being so forward about it.

Will wrapped his arms around himself, because Indiana was still so _fucking_ cold in April, and shivered beneath his jacket. Billy contemplated shrugging his off and giving it to the kid, but it was cold as shit and his jacket was the only thing between his arms and the wind. Will looked over at him again, eyes darting between Billy and his backyard.

“So,” Billy tried again, heart pounding at the idea of actually talking to someone who couldn’t read his mind about this. “I was talking to, uh, El,” he tried, gauging the kid’s reaction. Will just looked confused. “She thought that maybe I should talk to you.” He tried valiantly to convey _what_ without using the words. Will just kept staring with those fucking eyes.

“Uh, okay?” He said, shoulders hunching up to his ears. Billy ran a hand over his face and grimaced. Fuck.

“Listen,” he said, voice rough, “She wanted me to talk to you about the way you look at Mike.” And _fuck_ was that the wrong thing to say. The kid paled so fast, Billy thought he might faint.

“What?” His voice was breathless and tight, obviously trying not to freak out.

“Shit, fuck,” Billy grit out. “Not, not because she’s like, mad or anything,” he tried. Will just shrank more into himself and, Jesus, Billy was not the person for this. “But because--” The words got stuck in his throat. He’d never really told anyone except for his mother. Hadn’t said the words out loud since before she died. However, Will looked ready to bolt, probably assuming Billy was getting ready to pound him, so Billy sucked in a breath. “Because I look at St-- boys the same way.” This whole feelings talk was enough without the added reveal of how he looked at Steve. His mouth was a tight line and he took a long, long drag from his cigarette. It was silent, Will not moving or saying anything. Billy hadn’t been able to look at the kid when he spoke, but his eyes darted over now. The kid was staring, mouth slightly agape. Billy looked away, flicking some ash onto the cold ground below.

“You…?” Will asked, his voice quiet but somehow so loud. Billy just jerked a nod. Will looked at his backyard again before turning his gaze back to Billy. He looked so small, so sad, and Billy wondered if he had looked the same way.

“Yeah.” He knew he should say something more, something reassuring, but he didn’t really have much good to say. Will bit his lip, holding himself a little tighter.

“Do you think he’s noticed?” Billy almost didn’t hear him. He shook his head.

“No. No offense, but he’s a bit of a dumbass about that. Kid’s only got eyes for, well.” He looked back at the kid, who was smiling sadly. “It’s gonna be hard, here,” he said. Will looked at him, but this time Billy couldn’t read his emotions. “Hawkins, Indiana isn’t necessarily the best place for people, uhm, people like us.” His hand was shaking when he brought his cigarette to his lips and he glared it. “But there are better places out there. You just gotta get to them.”

“Like where?”

“Cali, for one. Bigger cities in general.” Fuck, was this weird. They were quiet for a while. Eventually Will scuffed the toe of his shoe against the wood and Billy sighed. “You should tell them.” Will rocked back on his heels, shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s--”

“You guys fought monsters together,” Billy cut in. “And your mom would throttle anyone who looked at you wrong, you know that, right?” Will looked away. Billy ran a hand through his hair. “Listen. You don’t have to tell anyone, but El knows and I think she’s worried that, well, you’ll end up like me. Longing for someone you can’t have and bitter because the world’s a piece of shit.” Will winced and Billy still _really_ thought he was the wrong person for this. “You’ve got good people around you, kid. That’s a lot more than some other kids can say.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Will said, “After everything, but I’m scared.”

“No fucking shit.” Billy flicked the butt of his cigarette away. “Those monsters are easier to spot. They look bad, so you can peg them immediately. But people are better at hiding when they’re monsters. You never know when someone you trust will just--” He stopped, clenching his fists. “Anyway, whatever. Just. Just wanted you to know you’re not alone. And that you don’t have to be.”

“You look at Steve,” Will whispered. Billy didn’t look at him. “Right? You said boys, but you meant Steve.”

“We’re done here.” Billy walked back inside before the kid could respond.

\--

Billy didn’t know if Will said anything to his friends, but El gave him a knowing smile the next time he came by to pick up Max. He ignored it, as well as the warm feeling in his chest.

“El is coming over,” Max said as she got in the car. Billy just raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” She just rolled her eyes at him before turning to talk with her friend. El, however, was still looking at Billy.

“Thank you,” she said. Max looked between them. Billy tightened his hands on the steering wheel but nodded once. “You should talk to Steve, now.”

“Do we need to talk about this right now?” He asked, voice tight with suppressed fear and rage. Max narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’d you do to Steve?”

“Nothing, fuck off,” he bit out, taking a corner a little too sharply. Max let out an aggravated noise. El leaned forward.

“He’s doing the same thing, you know.” She said it so casually, like she didn’t just fucking shift Billy’s world. He looked at her, eyes sharp, and she just smiled again before looking to Max, who was _not_ happy to be left out. “What was the music you wanted to show me?” Max looked at Billy once more before going off on a tangent about whatever crap she was listening to now. Billy just drove, his heart beating fast in his chest. _He’s doing the same thing_. The fuck did that even mean. Billy exhaled through his nose, counting to ten as he tried to slow his heartbeat. He knew what she meant. He just didn’t fucking believe it.

\--

Billy was sitting in his car outside Harrington’s house, bleeding from the nose and the cut right below his eye, and wondered what the fuck he was doing. His dad had been angry that night. Had seen Max hanging with Lucas at the arcade and made sure Billy knew what he thought of that. So Billy had left. He was angry, too angry, and couldn’t quell his anger towards Max. It wasn’t her fault his dad only blamed him, but it was hard to get beaten to a pulp and not feel fucking furious that she never felt the consequence. He hit the steering wheel once, twice. He screamed until his voice felt raw and he was breathing harshly, head pressed to the wheel as he tried to calm down. He jumped when someone knocked on his window.

“You know it’s weird to sit in someone else’s driveway screaming, right?” Steve was smirking and Billy shot him a glare. His eyes widened a little, but he didn’t say anything outright about the state of Billy’s face. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before tilting his head at the house. “I’ve got frozen peas.” He waited until Billy nodded to begin walking back into the house. Billy got out and locked his car, shoulders to his ears and hands shoved in his pockets. This was such a bad idea. He went inside anyway.

The house was empty. Well, it _felt_ empty. Steve was wrapping a dish towel around the bag of peas and Billy watched his long fingers before sharply looking away. His blood pulsed and he swallowed the fear that had risen up. _Fucking faggot,_ his father’s voice hissed in his mind. He needed to leave.

“Thanks,” he said instead, leaving Steve in his kitchen and collapsing onto his couch. Steve didn’t follow him. Billy eventually sat up, Steve still not in the room after a few minutes, and frowned. Before he could say anything, Steve came in and held up two joints.

“Sorry,” he said, sitting next to Billy on the couch. “Had to roll another.” Billy took the joint and, stupidly, let Steve lean in and light it for him. Billy’s eyes traced the spattering of moles, taking in the long lashes and pink fucking lips. The way Steve’s hair had moved a bit in the front, spilling into his eyes. Steve looked up and caught his gaze. Billy leaned back and looked away. They smoked in silence for a while, Billy letting the weed take away the pain in his nose and heart. “So, I hear Will Byer’s came out to the group as gay.” Billy started coughing, wincing with a groan when it made his face _hurt_. Steve just watched him, eyes unreadable. When he didn’t say anything more, Billy shrugged.

“Saw that one coming,” he muttered. Steve raised a brow, causing Billy to shrug. “He’s always watching Wheeler’s brother. Just like,” _the way I watch you,_ “The kid looks at El. Seemed pretty obvious to me.”

“You’re not gonna say anything gross?” Steve prodded, always knowing exactly where to push and poke to rile Billy up. In many ways.

“The kid’s been through enough shit,” he replied, blowing some smoke rings. “Doesn’t need more about something he can’t change.”

“Huh,” Steve said, a weird smile on his face. Billy frowned.

“What?” He snapped. Steve’s smile fell, but he didn’t shutter himself off like usual.

“You literally beat up a kid yesterday because he looked at you wrong.” Billy looked away. His dad had yelled at him that morning and that kid had punchable face, but he couldn’t tell Steve that.

“Guess I’m just a bag of surprises, Harrington,” he grumbled, taking another puff. Steve looked like he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t and they finished their joints in silence. Billy wanted to be angry, wanted to say some gross, horrible shit, but he was tired. He was so fucking tired. He licked his lower lip. Then he felt eyes on him. He glanced at Harrington who was… Staring at his mouth. His eyes snapped up and when they met Billy’s, he flushed and looked away. Billy’s mouth went dry and he wanted, oh _fuck_ did he _want_. He thought about what El said, about how maybe he believed it but knew he shouldn’t, should just lock these feelings away because if his dad--

He squeezed his eyes shut as his lungs started to squeeze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn’t breathe. His vision was swimming a bit, and he _couldn’t fucking breathe_\--

“Whoa, whoa! Count with me!” Steve rubbed circles into Billy’s back, his hand cold against Billy’s hot skin. He was only wearing a shoddy tank top, having left his house as quickly as he could. He wished there was something more between their skin, but he also really didn’t. Steve counted slowly, voice soft and gentle, and Billy hated how much it helped. How fucking weak he looked. How much he needed this. Eventually, breathing came easier. Steve didn’t move his hand, but he did stop rubbing. Billy wasn’t sure if it was better or worse.

“When we left California,” he heard himself say. Fuck. This weed was strong and he couldn’t stop his mouth. “My father was hoping to change some shit about me.” He set the, now defrosted, bag of peas on the table. When he leaned forward, Steve removed his hand. Billy missed it. He bit the inside of his lip, trying to figure out just what he was doing. Steve just sat, waiting, quiet and patient. “He,” he sighed, feeling his hands shaking, “He had already tried beating it out,” a sharp breath from Steve, but Billy couldn’t look at him, “But after nothing changed, he thought moving would do the trick.” He licked his lips and closed his eyes. “He found me with,” he grit his teeth, “A boy.” He could feel the anxious and curious energy radiating off of Steve, but still couldn’t look at him. “Thought moving here would, I dunno, remove the influence from my life. Like if he got me far enough away from there, I’d leave all that shit behind.”

“So--”

“So I knew Will was gay already.” He fiddled with the roaches on the table, picking at the burned paper and left over weed. “Because El knows everything and told me to talk to him about it. Since,” he let out a shuddery breath, “Since we’re the same.” He felt Steve’s hand on his arm, but still wouldn’t look. He didn’t want to lose what little control he had left.

“Billy,” Steve said. When Billy didn’t look up, Steve cupped his jaw and turned his head. Billy let his eyes drag, finally, _finally_ looking at him. Steve leaned in, eyes questioning, and Billy let him, closing the space between their lips. It was a chaste kiss. It was still the best he’d ever had. Steve pulled back, but Billy followed, kissing him again, deeper this time. He licked into Steve’s mouth, dragging his tongue across his. Steve groaned softly and Billy fisted a hand into his hair, pulling him closer. He sucked gently on Steve’s bottom lip, which in turn made Steve kiss him harder, hungrier, and it sent wonderful chills up Billy’s spine as well as straight to his dick. Steve rested a hand on Billy’s thigh, making him exhale sharply through his nose. He let Steve push him down against the couch, keeping his hand fisted in his hair as they kissed. Eventually Steve pulled back, lips puffy and red, and fuck did Billy want those lips wrapped around-- 

Steve cut off his thinking when he opened his mouth.

“I can’t believe you were Will’s gay mentor,” he said, smirking. Billy rolled his eyes and nipped at Steve’s neck, pulling a shuddery breath from his swollen lips. He sucked, tonguing at the skin and relishing in the sharp breathy moans it caused. Steve tugged on his hair, making him release the skin with a pop. He smirked, proud of his handiwork, and Steve kissed him again, grinding down slightly. Billy’s hips bucked, but then Steve’s nose bumped into his and he pulled back, hissing in pain. “Shit! Fuck! Sorry!” Steve moved off, running back into the kitchen and returning with some more frozen veggies. Corn this time. “Sorry.” They sat in silence for a while, their shoulders touching, before Billy let out a sigh.

“My dad will kill me if he finds out. If he even _thinks_\--”

“Kept the secret about monsters being real for a long ass time,” Steve said, cutting him off. “I think this can be kept under wraps just as well.” Billy smiled a little, but it quickly left.

“He’ll kill you, too,” he whispered, for once allowing his fear to speak. He shoved it back down when Steve took his hand and interwove their fingers.

“I’ve got a bat with nails within reach at all times,” he replied. “Also a friend, well, mentee, with fucking super powers. I’d like to see him try.” Billy smiled, then he kissed Steve again. When he pulled away, he rested their foreheads together.

“I don’t know that I can do this,” he whispered, shocked by his own honesty.

“Can we still try?” Steve replied. Billy wanted to say no. Knew that this would only end in heartbreak for them both.

“Yes.”


End file.
